— Dogwashn. A project of minimal priority, undertaken as an escape from more serious work. (Jargon File)
— Me? I'm just a lawnmower. You can tell by the way I walk. (Peter Gabriel)

24 August, 2011

A vital constitutional question

Although no longer a capital offence, having sex with the wife of the heir to the throne (unless, presumably, you happen to be the heir to the throne) remains an act of high treason. Just thought I'd share that with you; it's certainly put the damper on my early morning fantasies of a vigorous romp in the sack with Camilla, I can tell you.

You do have to tread so bloody carefully these days. So I'd like to seek your advice. In simpler times, the inimitable Ronnie Barker could get away with referring to our sovereign as Hor Majosty Tho Quoon,

a phrase which has stuck in my head for the last 36 years. I still have difficulty not automatically calling her "Tho Quoon" and getting blank stares in return. Such are mindworms.

Suppose then in this edgy offence-ridden era, if I were to raise the innocent query on Faceache or Twatter or wotever as to whether the Queen likes to have a rubber duck in her bath, would I be banged up for lèse majesté?

Mind you, the sight of the Yeomen breaking my door down with their partisans when they come to cart me off at six in the morning will give the local Nigerians something to think about. "Riots, arson, intercommunal voilence, early morning snatch arrests. This place ain't safe, man, I'm going back to Lagos."

Vivemus in spe!

What was all that about, then, you are asking? Just practising how to embed YouTubes in posts, mostly, innit. Or something. Off up that there London to watch the riots, I think.

Monty Python, of course, referred to a book called "How to Spell", by The Quoon. Not sure if it pre-dated Ronnie Barker, but alongside a spoof classified ad reading "Small brown and green thing for sale. Could be a Vermeer. £5." it's stuck in my mind all these years.

About Me

Edwin Greenwood is the nom de souris of a Mancunian early baby-boomer, now living in London, who like so many of his cohort has made the transition from cuddly inclusive soft-left liberal into a grumpy old git who is quite prepared to call a spade a black bastard.
(The previous sentence may cause consternation to the Righteous. If this is you, read this and/or this before exploding with indignation.)